


Studies in Blue and Green

by insominia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Castiel (Supernatural), Didn't Know They Were Dating, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Misunderstandings, No Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 09:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17598926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: Everyone knows that Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak have been in love since college. They even know it themselves. But Dean's straight and Castiel is ace so they're both happy to settle for a life of close living and close friendship...which could all have been avoided if they'd just had one conversation.





	Studies in Blue and Green

  
The room was plain and unassuming, exactly as Castiel had expected. It was his though, the typed 'C. Novak' taped beside the door attested to that. He hesitated in the doorway, overthinking everything as per usual. There were two single beds, pushed to opposite ends of the room, two desks at their foot, what if he chose the wrong side? What if his roommate wanted the side Castiel chose? He glanced at the name beneath his own, 'D. Winchester,' which of course told him nothing and he wasn't sure what it was he'd expected from just reading the name.

' _Stop overthinking things_ ', he scolded himself, ' _it's going to be fine_ '.

He dropped the box he was carrying beside the bed on the left and let his backpack fall to the bed with a dull thud.

"Hey, Sammy! Over here!" he heard a voice shout from the doorway and turning, found himself facing a stack of boxes. "Oh shit," the one carrying them said as he walked straight into Castiel, scattering both him and the boxes.

Castiel lay on the floor, mentally giving himself a once over when a hand was thrust in front of him. He took it and allowed himself to be pulled up and while this might be the first time Castiel glimpsed his apparent roommate, all he could see was green. "Sorry about that," the guy flushed, his cheeks turning such a shade of red it made his eyes look even greener if that were possible. 

"No problem," Castiel said, smiling despite their ungainly introduction and the dull ache in one of his ankles.

"Dean, Dean Winchester," the guy said, shaking Castiel's hand. "Guess we're roomies." He dropped his hand, as though awkward and suddenly Castiel didn't feel so anxious anymore.

"Hi roomie, I'm Castiel."

"K, I'm gonna call you, Cas," Dean said, his head cocked to the side. Inexplicable warmth spread through Castiel, no one had ever given him a nickname before, except his brothers, and he'd always hated, 'Cassie.'

A kid appeared in the doorway, carrying another box. He took in the scattered boxes on the floor and rolled his eyes, "nice one, Dean."

* * *

The room was no longer plain and unassuming. The left side was tidy and organised compared to the right, which looked as though it was trying to emulate a classic rock vinyl shop. Cas was setting up a canvas at the bottom of his bed, having decided that even though he was studying art he didn't want to lose the simple pleasure of painting for himself. Dean was lying on the bed, thumbing through a magazine, occasionally stealing glances over at his roommate, definitely not thinking about how lucky he'd gotten. Those eyes, man. Those eyes. Dean could stare into those eyes all day, assuming he didn't get distracted by that 'whiskey on the rocks' voice.

"There's a meet and greet later on, down at The Club. Shots are half price if you fancy it," Dean asked.

It didn't surprise him when Castiel gave a light shrug, "it's not really my kind of thing. Thanks though."

It did surprise him when he replied, "yeah I don't think I fancy it either."

* * *

  
There were best friends and there were Dean and Castiel.

They had other friends and with the exception of Charlie, who they both loved dearly, they kept to different circles. It made sense, art and engineering didn't really cross over that much. But beyond the natural separation caused by their timetables, there was very little that Castiel and Dean didn't do together.

Castiel wasn't a fan of late nights and drinking but he'd follow Dean to the bar sometimes. Dean didn't understand modern art in the slightest but if Cas was going to a gallery to check out a show, Dean would drive him, and follow him around, hanging on his every word about what they were looking at. Whenever a classic car show reared its head anywhere remotely near to the college, Dean and Castiel would disappear for the day, even though Castiel' knowledge of cars extended to - 'has engine and wheels'. Dean was always on the lookout for flowering seeds for Cas' window box. It was important to have a variety, Cas had said, it helped the bees. 

Their little circle had a bet on when they would realise it, Charlie reckoned it would take three years, Benny reckoned they never would.

* * *

"This is hopeless," Dean growled, throwing the pen in his hand down on the desk. He wasn't writing, but he'd needed something in his hand to occupy it while he struggled to formulate his thoughts.

From just a few feet away, Castiel was painting, without even looking up he said, "talk me through it."

Dean grunted, "what's the point, you won't understand it?"

Should he try green in that corner? It looked like it needed more green.

"Talk me through it."

"Why bother?"

Definitely more green.

"Just humour me, talk me through your process."

Dean picked up the pen again, twirling it in his hand and clicking the lid at intervals, "fine," he sighed, knowing it wouldn't do any good. He had been talking for about ten minutes before he realised that he'd answered the question he'd been posed. Not only that but he felt calmer just for having spoken it all aloud, all of which were immediately replaced by a sudden panic when he realised that he couldn't remember any of what he'd just said.

"Relax," Castiel said, dabbing shades of blue into the green. Without breaking his gaze on the canvas he pushed his phone over to Dean, and Dean took it, his face breaking into a grin when he saw that Castiel had recorded the conversation.

"You're the best," he muttered, putting headphones in so he could hear himself back and type his response.

Castiel didn't reply, he just smiled, maybe one day they'd be able to do this without Dean's 'there's no point' preamble. After all, it always worked.

* * *

Sitting on Cas' bed, Dean watching his roommate painting. Charlie had said it didn't look much different to the last one she'd seen Cas painting, Dean had rolled his eyes and given her a bitch face that would have put his brother to shame. Just because they used the same colours didn't mean they were the same painting.

"Do you ever use any other colours?" Dean asked, watching Cas swirl a brush through a pale green. "Not that it's a problem," he added, hastily, "just wondering."

Cas shrugged without looking back, "I guess I'm just going through a phase."

Dean watched in silence for a while longer, there was something cathartic watching Cas create such vibrant, swirling galaxies out of varying shades of just two colours. "I like it," he said, at length and Cas turned a beaming smile upon him that could have stopped Dean's heart.

"You can have it when it's done," Cas said, waving away Dean's protests, "really, I'd like you to have it."

It wasn't finished for another week, pale green swirls on a blue that looked as though it might be a sky, with what looked like stars scattered throughout it. Dean placed it on the wall next to his bed, for some reason whenever he looked at it he felt more at peace than he could ever recall.

* * *

Dean's mother was visiting as she "passed by" for "reasons" she hadn't fully disclosed to Dean, which meant that she wasn't passing by, she just wanted to visit. She was going to take him out for coffee and she'd insisted he bring Castiel.

"Why does she want you to bring me?" Castiel had asked, for easily the millionth time that morning.

Dean shrugged, "she's just being nice, now move your ass or we're gonna be late."

The two of them had jumped into Dean's '67 Impala and sped off to the coffee shop where Mary Winchester was waiting to greet them. She threw her arms around Dean, holding him long enough to embarrass him before she turned and gently appraised Castiel.

"Hello, Mrs. Winchester, I'm Castiel."

"Yes," she said, warily, still taking him in, "yes I've heard lots about you."

"All terrible," Dean supplemented, and they found themselves a table.

Castiel didn't contribute much to the conversation. As expected Dean wanted to know everything he'd missed; how was Sam coping without his big brother to bug him, how was Dad doing, what's Uncle Bobby up to these days, Jody's not working too hard is she? Castiel knew all about Dean's family, blood and extended, so the names were not strange to him, he just found he didn't have much to add. It didn't stop Mary stealing glances across at him when she thought he wasn't looking.

"Dean says you're an artist, Castiel," Mary asked after they'd established that Lawrence without Dean was largely the same but with fewer burgers and less Styx. 

"He's the best," Dean gushed before Castiel could respond, "he's doing these canvases in his spare time, different studies using just blue and green, they're amazing mom, I've got one hanging up, they're so good."

Castiel flushed as Mary's eyes moved between him and her son. She seemed to sigh a little but she remained polite to Castiel. When it came for her to leave she pulled Dean into her arms and held him tightly. Breaking apart she whispered, "I'm happy for you, really. Your dad will come around," and with a meaningful squeeze to his arms, she turned to Castiel, "it was nice to meet you," but there was no hug for him.

After she had left, Dean and Castiel were sprawled out on Castiel's bed watching Dr. Sexy M.D. which Dean insisted was essential to Castiel's education.

"Hey man, what do you think she meant?" Dean asked, suddenly, without prompting.

Castiel frowned, "who?"

"My mom, when she was all 'I'm happy for you, your dad will come around' and stuff?"

Castiel choked on his beer, "she said that?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Dean, that's the kind of thing you'd say if you didn't approve of your son's date."

For the longest of time Dean stared at Castiel, "but we're not dating," he said, eventually, and then with dawning horror, "oh my God, does she think we're dating? I gotta call her."

Dean flung himself from the bed, grabbing his phone to explain himself to his mother. Castiel just about managed to not choke on his beer, and instead almost died laughing, watching a flustered Dean trying to explain to his parents that he and Cas were definitely not an item.

* * *

Charlie practically hammered the door Dean shared with Castiel into splinters. Dean opened it, panicked, "Charlie? What's wrong?" Charlie pushed past him, throwing herself down on Castiel's bed, Dean followed her with desperate eyes, rushing to her side, "Charlie, are you ok?"

She nudged him harshly in the ribs, "tell me everything!"

He breathed a sigh of relief laced with confusion, "Jesus, Charlie, I thought something terrible had happened."

" _Tell. Me. Everything_ ," she demanded, jabbing a finger into his ribs to hammer home every word.

"About what?"

"You and Cas! You kissed Cas?! Tell me everything!"

"Oh!" Dean shrugged, "it's no big deal."

"No big deal? You kissed Cas!"

"I kissed a lot of people last night. There was mistletoe!" Dean protested. It wasn't a big deal, it was pretty standard party behaviour. He'd dragged Cas out, despite his protests, they'd worn suitably awful Christmas jumpers, drank far too many festive shots and Dean had made out with several people under the mistletoe. One of whom _may_ have been Cas. Well, alright, he was certain Cas had been involved, but it hadn't meant anything. They'd gone home together, as usual, gone to bed, woken up and after breakfast, Cas had gone to the library. There was nothing awkward about it and both of them had laughed about it, so everything was fine. Which is exactly what he told Charlie.

"Oh my God," she screamed into her hands, "what is wrong with you two?"

"It's no big deal, Charlie," Dean insisted and honestly, Charlie couldn't be bothered to argue this again. Her and Benny could complain about how oblivious their friends were later.

Charlie rolled her eyes, "uh huh, sure." Her eyes fell on Dean's bed and the monstrosity hung over the end. "Dean...what's that?"

With a grin, Dean hopped over to his side of the room and held up the jumper; his new _favourite_ jumper. As atrocious as it was, it was undeniably Dean. Bright red to clash with his eyes, covered in mistletoe and right at the centre his baby. "Cas made it for me."

Charlie thought if her eyes rolled any further back into her head she'd be able to see her own brain, "Cas knitted that for you?"

Dean grinned, nodding enthusiastically, "isn't it great?"

"Seriously, what is wrong with you two?"

* * *

"How are you gonna get home for Christmas?"

Cas rolled his eyes, "my brother's picking me up."

"Which one?"

"Gabriel," he sighed, "he insisted and my father didn't want to make the drive, so I get five glorious hours in a confined space with him."

"You want me to drive you?"

"Dean, it's five hours in the opposite direction, you can't."

"I totally can."

"Don't worry about it. You text me when you get home though."

"Sure thing, _mom_."

From the other side of the room, Charlie practically screamed into her hands, "oh my God, can you two get married already?"

* * *

Dean and Castiel had spent most of the Christmas break texting each other, so it should have come as a surprise when they both returned to college somewhat subdued. Neither of them had really said much, not because they weren't talking to each other, they were just focused on themselves. Still, Castiel's canvas remained blank even though classes didn't start for another three days. Dean had several textbooks to read through but so far the furthest he had gotten was to stare at the pile through narrowed eyes.

In the early hours of the morning, neither of them were asleep.

"You ok, Cas?" Dean muttered; he could hear Castiel thinking in the silence.

Castiel didn't answer for a while, before he finally sighed, "I told my parents that I didn't think college was for me." Dean's stomach dropped. "I just feel like I'm doing my best work out of class, and I'm arguing with the professor all the time and I felt so much better during Christmas break, but knowing I was coming back..." he trailed off, "anyway, I mentioned it to my parents and...they didn't take it well."

Even in the dark, they heard each other shift so that they were facing each other even if they couldn't see it. Dean didn't know how to respond, there was a gnawing pit in his gut at the thought of Castiel leaving, but for the moment his mind was elsewhere, replaying a conversation he'd had over the break.

_'I know I_ can _do it, I just don't_ want _to do it. I'd much rather be out there fixing up old cars and stuff...'_

_'Dean, don't be ridiculous, you can do better than that, you've got a brain if you just use it.'_

_'You're not listening, it's not that I don't think I can't do it, I know I can, I don't think I want to do it_.'

"Hey Cas," Dean called, all but hearing Cas' eyebrow raise.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"My folks didn't take it so well either."

* * *

Charlie and Castiel were, in theory, watching Netflix, but in practice not so much. Not when Charlie was far more interested in discussing Dean's whereabouts. Dean was on a date, not his first since he'd come to college, but for some reason the fact that this was Lisa, Lisa Braeden was worthy of comment. Most of the campus had been buzzing with the news all week, and while Castiel was happy that Dean had been so excited to head out that night, right now all he really wanted to do was watch Brooklyn 9-9 and eat popcorn.

"But aren't you even a little bit jealous?" Charlie teased.

"Charlie. Why would I be jealous?"

"Because you're in love with Dean, obviously," Charlie groaned.

Rolling his eyes, Castiel turned his attention back to the small screen, trying to focus on what was going on instead of Charlie beside him, even as she nudged him in the ribs. The truth was, he was in love with Dean, he'd known that about five minutes after he'd met him, but Dean hadn't shown the slightest bit of interest in him, and honestly that was ok with Castiel. Dean was off limits and it sucked, but Castiel could live with it. He'd lived with it so far.

"Are you going to do this all night?" he snarled at Charlie as she elbowed him in the ribs, again.

"Fine," she pouted, she'd dropped it before, she would drop it again. Dean wouldn't talk to her about it either.

They'd hardly watched enough to be considered a binge when Dean came back.

"Dean?!" Charlie cried, practically throwing herself off the bed, "you're back? What happened?"

Dean shrugged off his coat, looking over at her in surprise, "what?"

"Uh, your date? Did she ditch you?"

"Eh," Dean kicked off his shoes, "we had some dinner, but we didn't really click," he said, as though it were no big deal, "so we called it a day and I came back." He grinned, widely at Castiel as he jumped down onto the bed next to him, "oh man, I love this episode." Castiel shifted the popcorn so Dean could easily reach it, while Charlie stared at them. Neither of them saw her shaking her head.

* * *

They started playing a game. What would they be doing if they weren't in college?

Dean worked in a garage. He wasn't fussy, he'd start anywhere and maybe work his way up to restoring classic cars, but it was always a garage. It was harder to get a decent painting gig, so Castiel always opted for some crappy job that would pay the bills at least and then maybe he'd do odd jobs painting murals, illustrating where he could until he found his way.

The duffle bag dropped heavily on the floor and Dean threw himself, just as heavily onto his bed. He hadn't even taken his coat off. Castiel was painting, though from the way his brow furrowed Dean knew it was a re-do of something his professor had deemed "unacceptable". Neither of them spoke for a moment.

"So...I reckon we'd have to live in one of those crappy flats above a laundromat or something?"

"I'd have to paint something to brighten it up."

"That'd be nice."

* * *

It was almost Spring break and even though neither of them had said anything concrete, both Dean and Castiel knew they wouldn't be coming back for year two. There were two things keeping them there; the first was the one they would admit if asked - that their parents would be disappointed and they were preparing themselves for the fallout. The other was the one neither would admit even though it was true for both of them - that they would both rather stay in college and hang out with each other rather than leave and face the unspoken fear that they'd lose touch.

Another break came and went. More strained conversations with the family. Dean endured an excessively long lecture from his father about how Castiel was a bad influence on him and he didn't raise his boy to swing this way anyway. Castiel's family didn't need to mention Dean to hammer home their disappointment. Bad enough that he had wanted to something like art, worse still that he was thinking about dropping out.

They came back in silence. It seemed to be a running theme for their visits back home. They'd barely said two words to each other as they settled back into their own lives where their families weren't on their backs. A couple of days later Castiel handed Dean a circled ad in a newspaper. Did anyone even use newspapers anymore? Apparently so. It was a mechanic job for a place that specialised in classic cars. In Sioux Falls no less, so it was fairly close to Dean's family, but not so close that they'd be up in his grill all the time. Dean had stared at the paper for a long time, knowing that this was something he really wanted to try for, but not wanting to say goodbye to Castiel.

As if reading his mind Castiel pointed to the ad next to it, "there's a Gas n Sip in Sioux Falls, just opening. It'll probably need a few staff."

* * *

The fallout from the Novak family was almost apocalyptic. Knowing it would be, Castiel took all the money he could before he told them and they cut him off and revoke his access to his own savings. His father had berated him, extensively, and when Castiel had hung up, he'd left him excessively long voicemails that Castiel would force himself to listen to, as though he deserved it. His mother cried. A lot. Michael, ever the dutiful son, had taken on the role of telling Castiel what a disappointment he was. Lucifer, who had never much been one for toeing the family line, had jumped on the bandwagon if only to enjoy that it was Castiel's failings that were the talk of the dinner table now. Gabriel at least wasn't all that bothered and stayed out of it, if he talked to Castiel, he wasn't stupid enough to share that information with his family.

By comparison, the Winchesters barely raised an eyebrow. They weren't happy, but Mary had assured Dean that they'd get over it and ultimately they only wanted him to be happy. John Winchester was furious, more so when Dean and Castiel had found a flat together, and Dean found himself telling his dad, again, that he and Castiel were not an item.

The flat was grotty at best, but it was cheap and it would serve for them. Besides, once Castiel had set up his easel in the lounge (Dean didn't want him to hide away to paint), the place seemed brighter and by the end of the first week, there was a gorgeous watercolour in the hallway, a soaring bird in shades of blue and green.

* * *

"Got a date tonight?" Castiel asked, watching Dean pull cushions up looking for that particular Henley. He knew which one, it was green, exactly the right shade of green that brought out Dean's eyes. If Castiel was going to dress him for a date, he'd choose that same top too.

Dean grinned and shot him a wink, "jealous?"

"Uh huh, would it "cramp your style" to bring home some milk? If you're coming home at all that is."

"Jesus, Cas, drop the air quotes, and I dunno, maybe I will, maybe I won't. Hopefully, I won't," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Castiel could only roll his eyes.

"Well if not, I'll get some from work tomorrow, so it's no big deal."

Dean started laughing, drawing Castiel's gaze from the book he'd been reading. "Could we be any more married?" Dean snorted, "I'm going out on the town and we're figuring out who's gonna get milk."

The Henley in question had fallen behind the sofa, so Dean gave it a quick sniff, just to make sure it could pass. Castiel watched from over the pages as Dean stripped his current flannel off and into the relatively cleaner shirt. "Have fun out there, _honey_ ," Castiel said, ensuring his words dripped with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

Another wink, "sure thing, _baby_."

The following morning Castiel was surprised to find Dean passed out on the sofa, having not made it as far as the bedroom. He gave him a quick once over but it seemed there was nothing wrong with Dean beyond an excess of tequila. "Dean?" Castiel nudged him, gently, "you ok?"

Groaning, Dean buried his face in the sofa cushion, mumbling something incoherent. Castiel smiled, he'd be fine. Checking his watch he saw he had over an hour before he needed to go to work, which was enough time to fix Dean some breakfast. "I'm gonna make you something to eat," he announced and moved towards the kitchenette.

"They're never right," Dean was mumbling, "it's always wrong."

Castiel ignored him and turned on the coffee maker before he opened the fridge to dig out the bacon. He couldn't help but smile when he saw that Dean had indeed brought home milk.

* * *

Charlie visited during breaks. Even though her two best friends had dropped out of college it hadn't dampened their friendship. In fact, Dean and Castiel usually argued whose bed she was going to sleep in, given that neither of them could quite bring themselves to let her sleep on the couch that had come with the apartment.

Every time she visited she was always surprised to see that Dean and Castiel still had separate rooms. Nothing ever seemed to change between them. She could sit between them or beside them and they wouldn't bat an eyelid, as long as they could reach the pizza, hardly noticing when their fingers inevitably brushed against each other. After a couple of years, Charlie finally conceded to Benny that actually, maybe Castiel and Dean would never realise they were in love. Benny teased her that maybe, after all this, Castiel and Dean were just friends, but that idea never sat well with Charlie.

* * *

Dean's alarm was loud enough to wake Castiel, but apparently not enough to wake Dean. After it had gone on for longer than was surely possible for anyone to sleep through, Castiel found his way into Dean's room to see what was wrong.

As expected, Dean was asleep, but even by his standards, this was ridiculous. He was sprawled across the bed and it took Castiel just a moment to clock the sweat-drenched sheets beneath him. He clicked the alarm off and pressed his fingers to Dean's temple, the motion didn't bother Dean, but his temperature was obvious. Castiel sighed, he'd known this was going to happen, Dean had been complaining about a sore throat for a few days, but had he taken any of the medicine Castiel had recommended? Of course not.

Dean woke up late in the day, his eyes screwed up against what little light was seeping into the room. "Cas?" he groaned, feeling something warm and damp sponge against his forehead.

"Hey, Dean. You have a fever, but you'll be ok," Castiel murmured, wiping away the worst of the sweat.

Dean tried to swallow, but his throat felt too swollen, too dry. "Don't you need to go to work?"

"I called in sick," Castiel said, quietly, "I didn't want to leave you like this."

"You didn't have to do that, man," Dean croaked, but Castiel only chuckled.

"Sure, you'd be just fine on your own. I'm going to go make you some soup, don't go anywhere."

Castiel left the sponge on Dean's forehead and went out to find Dean something to eat.

"Hey, Cas?" he heard Dean call, "we got any of your sweet potato soup left?"

"Coming up."

He heard Dean turning back into the bed and a muttered, "I love that soup."

* * *

By the time Sam Winchester was ready to start college, Cas had decided he was going to buy his own place. He'd been circling potential houses in the area for weeks, leaving them out, after all, he had no reason to hide it, Dean thought. It had been two weeks since Dean had found Cas' laptop open on estate agent pages and since then he hadn't really spoken to his housemate. Nothing beyond grunts and small talk anyway, he wasn't sure why it bothered him so much that Cas wanted to move out. Well, he did know, but he wasn't about to voice it. But why now? They had a good thing going and granted Cas was now finally making a steady income as a painter, he was finally talking about packing in the Gas n Sip, plus he'd had the savings he'd nabbed before his parents could take it off him, so it made sense, but...what about Dean?

Dean was hiding in his bedroom, he knew he was hiding and Cas probably knew it too, but for the moment he didn't care. He could hear Cas in the lounge, humming to a tune Dean didn't recognise, but he didn't want to face him. It wouldn't be that bad, everywhere Cas was looking at was in the Sioux Falls area so it's not like they wouldn't see each other. And Dean was earning enough to cover the rent here, or he could move into a smaller place.

"Dean!" he heard Cas shout, and then there was the familiar stumbling that suggested Cas had gotten caught on the sofa in his haste to get up. Dean didn't want to move. "Hey, Dean," Cas called, banging at the door now.

"Hang on," Dean called, trying to compose himself. It was ok, it would be ok, Cas was his best friend, that wasn't changing and he tried to ignore the voice that was telling him he wasn't that much of a best friend if he couldn't even say that he wanted to move out.

Cas didn't wait to barge through the door, balancing his laptop on one arm, "look at this," he said, eagerly, dropping down beside Dean and scooting his laptop over.

It was a house, a nice house, far nicer than anything Dean could ever hope of living in. The class gap between the two of them reared its head so rarely between them, Dean could almost forget that Cas' family were positively affluent, not that Cas reaped the rewards these days. But this was nice. It was a proper white picket fence job featuring bay windows and wood floorings. Dean's throat was dry as he nodded his approval, "it's nice, Cas."

"It's perfect," Cas was saying, "there's enough room downstairs for a studio and there's a double garage so if you wanted to turn that into a workroom for cars you could, you've been wanting to bring cars home for ages, now you could. I don't know what a steam shower is but one of the en suite's has one so you can have that..."

Dean let Cas' ramblings flow over him, nodding along, giving non-committal, 'uh huhs' and 'sures' before he actually realised what Cas was saying. "Wait...wait I'm going to have the garage?"

Cas looked over, surprised, "well...you don't have to," he said, uncertain, "I just thought it'd make sense. There's room for Baby in there, obviously but-"

"I'm...coming with you?" Dean asked, unable to stop the note of hope creeping into his voice.

Cas could only stare at him, as though Dean had suddenly started speaking a foreign language and was momentarily incomprehensible, "well...I mean I thought you would? It'd work out cheaper rent wise for you, unless," he swallowed and Dean could see the lump in his throat, "sorry, I shouldn't have assumed..." Cas took the laptop back and rose before Dean caught his hand.

"No, I want to come, I thought...I thought you were leaving."

It would have had less impact if he'd slapped Cas, Cas looked down at him so suddenly and so shocked for a moment Dean wondered if he hadn't actually struck him without realising, "leaving? Why would I be leaving?"

Dean could only stare, he had nothing. Then Cas was leaving the room anyway, but this time he was laughing, calling Dean an idiot and worse as he went to make an appointment with the estate agent.

* * *

Mary and John Winchester didn't visit Sioux Falls very often, and when they did they tended to meet Dean in a neutral place - a restaurant or a coffee shop, somewhere where they didn't have to visit Dean's home. They never said why and Dean never asked, just as he never asked why Castiel wasn't welcome at their gatherings, something which had never been voiced but clearly understood by all concerned.

It was a surprise then, but a pleasant one, when they turned up on the porch of the new house. They'd followed Dean in, listening to him gush about how great the place was. He showed them around and they were admittedly impressed, though they kept exchanging looks as though expecting something. Whatever it was they expected it never came, as Dean showed them the upstairs, "so this is my room," he said, revealing a room that looked every bit the classic rock vinyl shop that his college dorm had, only on a larger scale. Beside it was the guest room and then he waved a hand in the general direction of Castiel's room and said, "Cas is over there."

"That's Cas' room?" Mary asked, her voice louder than it needed to be. Dean turned, puzzled and nodded, "as in Castiel...Castiel sleeps in there?"

"Uh...yeah? 'Cept when he falls asleep in the studio, that's next to the garage, I won't show you that though, he's working on something at the moment."

"Castiel is in the garage?"

By now Dean was thoroughly confused, "uh yeah...he's doing some illustrations for some kid's book...why?"

"Well, it's just...Bobby said that you weren't, but we thought you were just saying-"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, how many times Cas and I aren't together. Besides, I'm seeing someone at the moment," he added and John Winchester almost laughed with relief, so Dean didn't feel the need to add that he'd only been on a couple of dates and he was fairly sure this was going to fizzle out like all the others, but for the moment he showed them her picture and let his father gush about how relieved he was.

John and Mary stayed two nights, during which they seemed to warm to Castiel for the first time since they'd met. Castiel wasn't sure what had happened and in truth, he was somewhat wary of the way John had practically cheered when Castiel told him buying the house together had never even been a consideration, after all, what happened if Dean met someone?

"That was weird," Dean said, having seen off his parents and acquired pizza and beer to make up the awkwardness to Castiel. It was his house after all.

Castiel flicked through the Netflix options until he found something suitably mindless for them to lose themselves in. "Parents are weird," he said, sagely, throwing himself down beside Dean, who chose to lie across the sofa, making his head comfortable against Castiel's thigh.

"They always thought we were together, huh?" Dean asked.

Castiel smiled as Dean struggled to get a good angle to steer pizza into his mouth until he allowed Castiel to just feed him where he lay.

"Weird, huh?"

* * *

Castiel's latest painting hung in the hallway. A car, on a cliff edge overlooking a beach. The car, Dean's Impala, of course, was in black, the first time in years Castiel had painted in something that wasn't blue or green, but the stark contrast of the black made the other colours seem more pronounced. Sam's girlfriend, Jess, was staring at it with undisguised admiration. She hadn't looked away from it in some time, Castiel was starting to blush. Sam had brought her to meet his brother and his brother's 'friend' definitely a friend and nothing more but Jess had fallen in love with Castiel's many paintings and hadn't let him escape. Dean had shown her around, happy to share Castiel's talent while Castiel hid in the kitchen and pretended to be busy making food.

"Your work is fantastic, Castiel," Jess gushed, but Castiel didn't answer, turning bright red and finding the act of peeling potatoes massively interesting.

"He's the best," Dean said from the end of the counter, "I wouldn't want anything else on the walls."

Castiel caught Dean's eye and flushed, if possible, and even deeper red.

"You two are so adorable," Jess laughed, "how is it you're not together? I mean, you obviously love each other."

Sam took Jess' arm gently, "oh no Jess, it's not like that."

Jess looked between the three of them, one eyebrow raised, "sure it is. I mean it's ok if you're not together, I was just wondering why."

"Dean's straight," Castiel said, at the same time Dean said,

"Cas doesn't do relationships."

Immediate silence fell across them. Sam's jaw was somewhere on the floor, Jess seemed to be rather pleased with herself as Dean and Cas both turned to look at each other, thunderstruck.

"I'm not straight."

"Of course I do relationships."

"Hey Jess," Sam whispered, "let me show you the garden," he pulled her elbow, but neither Dean or Castiel really noticed them leaving.

"Cas, in all the time I've known you, you've never gone out with anyone. You've never shown interest in anyone!" Dean was saying, but Castiel was frowning and talking over him,

"You've never been on a date with a man in all the time I've known you."

"That's coz the only man I want to date doesn't do dates!" Dean snapped, "you've never even gone out for drinks with someone."

"Because you're straight!" Cas shouted back, "I didn't think you'd want to go on a date with me!"

"Why the hell would I not want to go on a date with you?! I've been in love with you forever!" Dean was yelling now, the distance Sam and Jess had put between them rendered useless as their volume increased.

Castiel was positively beaming, "you...you... _assbutt_ ," he laughed, unable to find the words, "I love you too, why do you think I've never even looked at another person since I met you?!"

Dean was closing the distance between them, "I couldn't even look at another man when I had you. I thought I could make it work with someone else but you saw how that turned out."

They were so close now, close enough that they could feel each other's breath on their face. "I hate you," Castiel groaned, surging forward to claim Dean's lips.

"I hate you," Dean laughed back, bringing his hands up to cup Castiel's cheek, "all this time we could have been-" They both broke apart, laughing, but unable to let the other move too far away. Their hands entwined with each other and Dean wondered if he would ever let go.

"That wasn't even our first kiss, Dean," Castiel cried, "you didn't notice I was interested when I kissed you, dumbass."

Dean pulled Castiel against his chest, resting his chin on Castiel's head, "we're going to be arguing about this for days."

"Years," Castiel agreed, before he chuckled, "assbutt."

"You guys ok in there?" they heard Sam call from the hallway.

"Fine, Sam," Dean barked back, "but you know, you and Jess might wanna go visit Uncle Bobby a while." Castiel tried to take a step back, but Dean held him tight, smiling down at him, "we've got a lot of catching up to do."

* * *

Sam and Jess reappeared at some point during the weekend but didn’t stay long when it became increasingly clear that Castiel and Dean were planning on more than making up for lost time. It gave them an excuse to visit everyone they knew in Sioux Falls at least.   
Dean sent his mother a text and got an, 'we know, sweetheart,' back. Castiel thought it best to tell his brother Gabriel who sent back, 'it's about time,' complete with several inappropriate emojis. Dean thought it best to video call Charlie, so they could see her reaction face to face. Initially, they sat beside each other, holding hands, letting Charlie talk about work and her role-playing group. It probably proved Charlie's long-suffering point that they had been married since they first saw each other that she didn't even notice they were holding hands. Dean scooted closer to Castiel, wrapping an arm around him and still she didn't react. A kiss on the cheek didn't get more than a raised eyebrow either.

"For God's sake, Charlie," Dean cried, cutting her update on Benny short, "me and Cas are together."

"Well duh," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

Dean held up their hands, still tangled together, "no we're like properly together."

Cas wondered if the series of screams that poured through the phone's speaker were loud enough to make national news; they'd at least make the local pages.

* * *

Dean woke up to a scene that was something out of a chick flick. The light was streaming through the open window, the curtains billowing in the breeze. He was alone in bed, but the rumpled sheets attested that this was a recent development. As did the clothes strewn across the floor. For a time, Dean just lay in bed, feeling wonderful, just wonderful. Everything was exactly as it should be, he had no idea he could feel such happiness. He stretched out, languidly; this was bliss. Idly, he wondered if Sam and Jess had come back in the night, or if they'd used their sense and stayed with Bobby. Either way, he figured they owed Jess big time, maybe he'd ask Cas to paint her something, she'd like that. Pulling on a pair of boxers, Dean had never really covered up beforehand but now he felt doubly justified in not doing so, he went in search of Cas.

Nothing had changed but everything was different. Cas was sitting in his studio, apparently having had the same thought as Dean and wearing nothing more than a worn pair of boxer shorts. He was painting, naturally, though he didn't turn around when he heard Dean enter. He let Dean slip an arm around his chest and leaned back into him when he started trailing kisses along his shoulder.

"Good morning," Cas said, his eyes closed but Dean could hear the sheer bliss in his voice. Dean smiled, leaning over to kiss him.

"Morning, what 'you working on?"

Cas didn't answer, but he sat up and leaned against Dean, inviting him to look at the board before them. He could see the outline of two people, clearly him and Cas, but they were shaped in negative space, surrounded by vibrant hues of blue and green.

"It's going to look gorgeous when it's done," Dean said, squeezing Cas' shoulder.

"Thank you," Cas smiled up at Dean, entwining their fingers, "I want to paint in green and blue forever."

 

 


End file.
